On Being a Stupid Girl
Happy hangover day, babygirls! Just woke up with last night's mascara caulking my eyelids to my face and, upon waking, had the following thought:
I am a stupid girl.
The WORST kind
For all of my preaching about knowing yourself, it's important to note that the most valuable thing I know is that I don't actually know sh*t... you know? I'm not done yet. I am still raw (vegan, salmonella-free) batter, baby. And so are you.
For some reason, we grow up thinking that we'll just be autonomous adults one day without taking into account all of the stupidity we'll have to endure to get there. Sometimes I'll vehemently state an opinion (i.e. I hate Julia Roberts! I would never wear red pants!) and then realize it's my mom who feels that way and Julia really does have a million dollar smile. Or whatever. On the other hand, sometimes I'll completely forget all of the work I've done to become me so far because I feel like pouring myself into another cake pan (FYI that metaphor is back). I could theoretically become any kind of cake at this point: that is terrifying and that is thrilling and that is life.
What I'm trying to say is that youthful stupidity is not only acceptable, it is necessary. We should be trying all the cake pans on for size. We should be wearing fringe and hot pants and rookie crowns and making friends too easily every weekend (don't worry, I gotcha covered.) We should often wake up wondering why we did what we did the night before: this ensures that we live with intention. It also makes us neurotic interesting. We should collect life experiences like this woman collects horrifying cats and we should assess them often. They should inform our choices. They should inform our flavors.
In conclusion, you're only truly stupid if you're in your twenties and you think you're not stupid. You are. But I'm into it.
Have any revelations lately? Do you ever feel like some creep is occupying your body and making you do weird things? Do I need an exorcism? Important thoughts.